Cocktail Nation

How we're becoming 1990s hepcats

Drinks, like life, keep getting harder, it seems; tastemakers are increasingly forgoing the tame offerings of the microbrewery and the vine in favor of high-octane cocktails. Barmen are scouring antiquated mixology guides for the components of such retro libations as gimlets, Gibsons, salty dogs, and bee's knees (1 jigger of gin, 1 teaspoon of honey, juice of 1/4 lemon; shake well with ice and strain into glass). The allure of old-fogy drinks—whose very names evoke women in hostess pajamas and men wearing Hai Karate aftershave—goes hand in hand with a renewed interest in the smoky and smooth sounds of Shirley Bassey, Esquivel, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Bobby Darin, Mel Torme, and Louis Prima.

"Interest in serious liquor picked up about a year ago," says John McDonald, the owner of New York's MercBar and its newly minted Phoenix outpost. "People are getting the feel for more sophisticated liquor just as they are listening to more sophisticated music. We're moving a lot more Manhattans [¾ bourbon, ⅛ vermouth, dash of bitters] and even negronis [⅛ gin, ⅛ Campari, ⅛ sweet vermouth, lemon twist]."

Perhaps the avatars of hip are looking for an antidote to greasy kid stuff like mosh pits, flannel shirts, and brew pubs. "As you get a little older, you turn away from pounding a Budweiser. And when I'm wearing my sharkskin suit, I want a cocktail that's a little more classic—a little more Breakfast at Tiffany's, a little more James Bond," says Senor Amor, the premier D.J. on the Los Angeles lounge scene. Bands such as Combustible Edison, Love Jones, the Blue Hawaiians, and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy have emerged as well; some have contributed music to Miramax Films' Swingers, a movie which promises to become the American Graffiti for the new grooviness. Directed by Doug Liman (the son of Iran-contra Senate counsel Arthur Liman), Swingers features two twentysomething cats who road-trip to Vegas for a little ring-a-ding-ding.

Indeed, sultriness is the order of the day: "We have a saying about our infusions [concoctions made with fruit-laced vodka]," says L.A.'s Bar Marmont co-owner Sean MacPherson with an insouciance that would make Joey Bishop proud. "These cocktails are like women's breasts: one is not enough and three is too many."

JOHN BRODIE